


little secrets

by TerraTheTerror



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Coming Out, Coming of Age, F/F, Friendship, Homophobia, M/M, Magic, Misogyny, Mystery, One-Sided Attraction, Post-Kingdom Hearts I, Slow Burn, Spoilers - Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance, at first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-22 11:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17661743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraTheTerror/pseuds/TerraTheTerror
Summary: What was meant to be a new start for Miyako quickly becomes a search for two missing boys — all for the sake of the girl they left behind.





	1. alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> named after the song by Passion Pit; edited and condensed first 3 chapters into 1

 

 

There’s nothing here. The only plaza on the entire island, and there is _nothing_. No arcade, no movie theatre, no roller rink — just a shabby ice cream joint and a small bookstore.

Miyako sighs, cursing her fate, and heads towards the bookstore. The sign above it reads _Jecht’s Books_. Miyako hopes this Jecht person knows what to stock; if she doesn’t find something worth her time, she’ll die of boredom.

It’s been two days since she moved her belongings into her mother’s house on Paopu Island. Miyako already had a room there for her occasional visits, but now it’s permanent. A permanent home on the smallest of the Destiny Islands.

She wishes she could keep living with her father on the main one, where there was a movie theatre and a skate park and all kinds of stuff. Not to mention her friend, Haru.

She can’t, though. She just… can’t.

A bell jingles as Miyako opens the bookstore door, and the lone employee at the register glances up at her. It’s a blond guy in a blue polo and khaki shorts. The bored look on his face vanishes when he sees her.

“Woah! You’re new!”

“Tidus! That is not how we greet customers!” somebody shouts from the back room.

The boy winces. “Sorry! Welcome to _Jecht’s Books_. If you need help, just let me know. My name is Tidus.”

“Thanks,” Miyako mutters. The excitement on Tidus’ face is unnerving. “Where’s your young adult books?”

“… What’s a young adult book?”

God, she hates this island. With its stupid name — paopu fruit, who the hell names a place after such a corny legend — and its stupid people and its stupid everything.

“Never mind. I’m just gonna browse.”

“Oh. Sure!”

Miyako quickly figures out why Tidus doesn’t know what a young adult book is. It’s because this damn store doesn’t have any — only some children’s books, some fantasy, and a bunch of sports books. There’s an entire bookcase dedicated to books about sailing, and another one next to it for fishing.

She sighs and grabs a random fantasy novel off of the shelf. The cover shows a knight wielding a sword in front of a dragon. Nothing groundbreaking, but it’s good enough. She doesn’t bother reading the summary on the back. After pacing between the shelves, she grabs another book titled _A Beginner’s Guide to Sailing._ She figures that learning a new skill will give her more to do at the beach. She’s already sick of swimming.

Miyako heads to the register, and grimaces when she sees that Tidus is still watching her.

She hands him the books silently. He whistles as he punches in some numbers, and smiles as he gives her total. While she fishes her munny out of her pocket, Tidus starts drilling her for info.

“So, what’s your name?”

Miyako hesitates, then sighs. He’ll find out eventually, anyways, on an island as small as this. “It’s Miyako.”

“Mi-ya-ko. Cool name. Are you visiting somebody?”

“No,” she says, handing him the munny. “I just moved here.”

“Awesome! Nobody new ever moves here! Lots of people move away though.”

“I wonder why?”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” She accepts the change and the receipt. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” She turns to leave, but he hurriedly asks, “What grade are you in?”

“I’m a sophomore.”

“Nice! I’m a freshman.”

“Nice,” she parrots back. “I gotta go.”

“Oh. Okay! See you at school.”

“Sure.”

She leaves the store at a brisk walk, wondering where she should hang out and read. The heat from the sun makes the decision for her. She heads to the ice-cream shack.

There’s three picnic tables, two under the sun and one in the shade of a palm tree. She eyes the shaded one, but there’s already three people seated there. At the counter, she finds out that the only flavors they carry are vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. The toppings are equally uncreative.

At least the employee here doesn’t bother interrogating her like Tidus did. The old woman just hums to herself as she processes the transaction and makes a chocolate cone. Miyako takes it with a heart-felt “thank you.”

She sits down at one of the unshaded tables. The wood is hot. Unbearably hot. She winces.

“Would you like to sit with us?”

Miyako looks up into blue, almost violet eyes, and blinks.

The girl standing in front of is very pretty. Very, very pretty. With short red hair and an inviting smile, she radiates warmth.

Miyako stutters, unable to form words.

“It’s so hot out today,” the girl says. “You shouldn’t be sitting in the sunlight for very long. And we’re just waiting for our friend. There’s no harm in joining us.”

Getting a hold of herself, Miyako nods and silently follows the girl to the other table.

A red-haired boy and a brunette are also there. They introduce themselves as Selphie and Wakka, and the pretty redhead says her name is Kairi.

Kairi.

Kairi is nice.

“Miyako,” Selphie says, “you’re new here, aren’t you? Are you visiting or staying?”

“Staying.”

“Cool, ya! We never get new people here.”

“Yeah, cool,” Miyako mutters. It isn’t.

“Well, I was new here once upon a time.”

“That was years ago, Kairi,” Selphie giggles. “You’re an islander like us, now! Besides, you didn’t choose to come here and stay. You just showed up.”

Kairi shrugs. “It could have been my decision. We don’t know why I came here, or how.”

Frowning, Miyako tries to catch up. “What are talking about?”

“Oh! Sorry, I’m so used to people knowing… They found me on the beach when I was a little girl. I couldn’t remember anything besides my name.”

“That — that’s awful,” Miyako stutters.

“Not really. Dad adopted me, and I made friends. This is my home now.”

Something shifts in Kairi’s expression as soon she finishes speaking. Her smile fades away, and she looks away from them, towards the ocean.

Selphie and Wakka exchange glances. Miyako frowns, biting into the last of her ice-cream cone. She doesn’t know what’s bothering Kairi, and she’s not sure that it would be good to find out. That would bring them closer…

Miyako doesn’t want a repeat of her old school.

“I’m sorry,” Miyako says, standing and gathering her books. “I need to head out.”

She walks away before anybody can respond.

 

—————

 

At home, Miyako phones Haru.

She picks up with a soft, “Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Oh! Miyako… How are you doing?”

“Fine. You?”

“I’m doing alright.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah…”

The conversation doesn’t get less awkward. They both struggle with their words, striving for honesty without bringing up the elephant in the room. Miyako feels a little relief when Haru says she has to go, and a click brings their call to an end.

_It could be worse,_ Miyako thinks. _It could be so, so much worse._

Three days. School starts in three days.

She waits with bated breath.

 

—————

 

Miyako stares up at the sign above her new school. Paopu High, it reads in blocky letters. The brick building is tiny, but in decent shape.

She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and strides through the doors.

Despite arriving extra early to find her way around, Miyako discovers that there are already people filling the halls. They turn and stare at her as she passes, and she holds her head up high. _They don’t know,_ she reminds herself. _Everything will be fine_.

“Hey! It’s you! Minako!”

Somebody grabs her shoulder and yanks on it. She glances back to see that Tidus kid.

“It’s _Miyako,”_ she hisses, slapping his hand away. “And don’t touch me.”

“Okay! Got it. No touching. No need to bite my head off.”

Miyako disagrees. She thinks there is every reason to bite Tidus’ head off, but to be fair, she’s in a bad mood. This is the day she has been dreading all vacation. At least she didn’t have to worry about choosing an outfit. The school uniform took care of that for her.

Somebody giggles behind Tidus, and Miyako finally notices that Selphie is there, too.

“Hi, Miyako!” she greets. “Nice to see you again. We were hoping to catch you around before school started, but we never saw you.”

Miyako shrugs, glancing at a few girls cooing over a photograph nearby. “I had to unpack my stuff.”

“Oh? Well, next time let us know! We can help!”

“I didn’t need help,” Miyako says hurriedly. “I’m moving into my mom’s house, so the furniture was already there.”

Tidus tilts his head. “Huh? Your mom’s house? Are your parents divorced?”

“Tidus!” Selphie slaps him upside the head. He groans and glares at her. “Do you have a single teaspoon of tact in your brain!?”

“I have plenty of tact!”

“Prove it!”

“How!?”

“I’ll think of something — don’t you worry!”

“Hey, freshmen. You’re giving the new girl a bad impression of our island.”

A boy with a buzz-cut towers over Tidus and Selphie. He has a couple of inches on Miyako, too. The sneer on his face tells her everything she needs to know about the type of guy he is.

“Screw off, Jirou. Nobody asked you,” Tidus hisses.

“What did you say to me?”

Selphie grabs Tidus’ bicep. “Tidus…”

He ignores her. “You heard me. I said screw off!”

Jirou leans down, stopping eerily close to Tidus’ face. “You better watch your mouth, little man. Wakka ain’t strong enough to protect your hide. Not alone.”

“I don’t need his protection!”

“Right,” Jirou says snidely. “That’s why the last time you pissed me off, you went running to Wakka and Riku. Because you don’t need them.”

“Shut up!” Tidus snaps. “I didn’t go running to either of them for that. I just did what Riku asked me to do!”

“What? Be a little chicken?”

“Look out for Sora.”

The sneer on Jirou’s face vanishes. “Well, I can say what I want about that little freak, now. They’re gone.”

“They’re not gone.”

It’s Kairi, forcing her way between Jirou and Tidus despite being tinier than both. She glares up at Jirou defiantly.

Miyako decides that now is a good time to get away. But when she tries to back up, she discovers that a crowd of students have surrounded them in a tight circle, drawn to a fight like ants to sugar.

Jirou snorts. “They’re gone, alright. Your stupid little friends probably drowned trying to sail that pathetic raft —”

Whatever Jirou is talking about sounds serious, and sad. The kind of thing that could make Miyako sympathetic to Kairi — after all, she has also lost friends.

But she can’t afford to be sympathetic. Miyako tries to nudge people out of the way to no avail.

“— and they left you behind because you never mattered to those f—”

A slap rings out through the hall. Miyako turns back to the fight to see a red mark across Jirou’s cheek. Kairi still has her hand raised, her lips trembling and eyes watering.

“If you ever say another bad thing about them,” Kairi says shakily, “I’ll make you regret it.”

Jirou touches his cheek, disbelief clear on his face. He doesn’t get a chance to retaliate before Kairi slips away, the crowd parting for her as she runs. Selphie follows immediately, and Tidus does too after snapping, “What she said!” at a still-shocked Jirou. Realizing that the show is over, the crowd starts to drift away, grumbling about the lack of a real fight.

It’s just Miyako here now. With a guy whose apparently homophobic and a bully. And, judging by the people hovering at his side and cooing over him, he’s also fairly popular.

Miyako bites her lip and turns to slip away like Kairi did. She wants so badly to stay under the radar, and that means staying away from people like Kairi and people like Jirou.

Another hand on her shoulder stops her. It’s not Jirou, thank god, but a girl with blond hair and crystal earrings.

“I can’t believe that brat,” the girls says, talking almost too fast to be human. “Typical Kairi. She always needs to be at the center of attention. Anyways, you deserved a better welcome than one from those fort freaks. You’re from the city on Destiny Island, right? That’s so cool. I love that place. It’s so much better than this stupid island. But I’ll help make this place more bearable for you! My name is Heather. I love your hair. Blue is so pretty!”

Miyako blinks stupidly at her while her brain processes the spiel. She means to introduce herself, or something cool to stay in Heather’s good graces, but instead she ends up asking, “Fort freaks?”

Heather laughs. “Yeah! That’s what we call their group. Kairi, Selphie, Tidus, and Wakka. They’re total losers who spend their free time in a hidden fort somewhere. So lame.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s on one of the mini islands around here. We used to hang at one of the islands too, but Sora totally ruined that.”

“Sora?”

Heather rolls her eyes. “Ugh. He was an annoying brat. We used to play fun games on the island. Like sometimes we’d steal the younger kids’ stuff and hide it there. Or get some of them to eat mud. Just normal stuff older kids are supposed to do to younger kids. But _Sora_ didn’t like that. He got some of the other kids to fight back, too, and they made us stop.”

“We could have won if it weren’t for Wakka and Riku,” Jirou cuts in, apparently done soaking in his admirers’ attention. He crosses his arms and glowers in the direction that Kairi went.

“Oh,” Miyako says. She’s too afraid to ask anymore questions.

Jirou shakes a little, like he’s trying to brush off something gross. “You’re Miyako, right? I’m Jirou. Stick around me and Heather and you won’t have to deal with losers like them.”

She doesn’t particularly like Selphie or the others, but she likes Jirou and Heather even less. She’s already on their radar, though. And she knows, without a doubt, that getting on their bad side means torment and ridicule.

Miyako fakes a smile. “Sounds good to me.”

 

—————

 

Throughout the day, Jirou and his friends gravitate towards Miyako. They don’t give her a second to herself, escorting her to her locker between lessons so they can berate her more questions — questions that are always about the main island. Never herself.

Thankfully, the classes offer a reprieve. Each teacher hands out a syllabus and forces the students to introduce themselves. It never takes long; there are literally fifteen people in her grade and about seven kids to a classroom, which is ridiculous. But studying is an excuse to ignore Jirou and the others, so she takes to it like butter on bread. They’re used to it thanks to Elvira — a girl who wears wireframe glasses and always ties her violet hair back with a white ribbon.

“I’m going to be valedictorian,” she tells Miyako over lunch. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Kairi glance her way before disappearing from the cafeteria. “Just be sure to stay out of my way and we won’t have any problems.”

Miyako thinks Elvira is the scariest out of Jirou’s gang, but she doesn’t bother Miyako with questions every damn minute, so she’s also the most tolerable.

There’s only two classes that Miyako doesn’t share with any of the others — an AP history class and Home Ec. The history class becomes Miyako’s favorite by the end of the lesson. The teacher — Ms. Yoshida — doesn’t follow the history books the way her previous teachers did. Instead, she blasts them apart, pointing out discrepancies between accounts and unexplained gaps in knowledge.

Apparently, there’s a lot of mystery surrounding Destiny Islands. A _lot._

Home Ec is not as enjoyable. Since it’s an elective, it’s a hodgepodge of freshmen and sophomores, and a single junior. Mildred is the old woman who runs the class, and she refuses to give her surname to anyone. “Just call me Mildred,” she snaps at the junior when he tries asking about it.

Mildred is nice enough, if a little abrupt, but she screws everything up for Miyako by making them work with partners.

Assigned partners.

And she pairs Miyako with Kairi.

It should be a recipe for disaster, especially since Kairi spotted Miyako with Jirou at lunch. But when they are handed instructions on how to bake a cake, Kairi doesn’t say anything about it. She just looks at the list of ingredients and prepares them in silence. When Kairi hands her a spoon, she looks Miyako straight in the eye, her face unreadable.

Miyako finds it unnerving, but at least Kairi isn’t picking a fight. Most people would with friends of their tormentors. So she should be relieved.

But when Miyako watches Kairi carefully and doesn’t see a single smile, it isn’t relief she feels.

 

—————

 

By the time school ends, Miyako feels exhausted. She wants to go home and sleep, and flounders for an excuse when Jirou corners her outside the school building and invites her to the beach with his friends.

“Sorry, I can’t,” she lies. “I have to — to look for a job.”

Jirou raises his eyebrows.

“Are you sixteen?”

“Not yet, but I have work permit.”

“Lame,” Heather declares, laughing. The rest of the group joins in.

Jirou doesn’t. “No. No, that’s awesome. Earlier you start, earlier you can buy your own shit.”

“Like porn,” one guy pipes up. Miyako thinks his name might be Lucas.

“Yeah, stuff like that,” Jirou agrees. “Alright, Miyako. Go earn that dough.”

“I will.”

They finally leave, and Miyako sags against the brick wall behind her in relief when all of them are out of sight. She sinks to the ground and stares at the grass beneath her feet.

She’s not alone for long. A shadow falls over her, and she looks up to see a furious Tidus.

“I can’t believe it. You’re friends with _them,_ but _I_ get a death stare every time I talk to you?”

Miyako groans. She doesn’t want to deal with this. Not now, not ever.

“Unbelievable!”

“I agree with Tidus, ya?” Wakka joins Tidus, carrying a Blitzball under his arm and glaring angrily.

Selphie shows up on his other side. “Why would you do that? None of us are sophomores so we can’t be around during class, but you could have found somebody else! _Anybody_ else!”

“Leave her alone, guys.”

Miyako’s throat closes up as soon as she notices Kairi, hanging back behind the others with a blank face.

“But, Kairi!” Selphie whines. “She heard what Jirou said this morning! She knows he’s horrible and she still —”

“It takes courage and strength to stand up to people like Jirou. She doesn’t have either.”

A slap in the face would have been less humiliating than that. Miyako feels her face burn as Kairi stares at her. Then she turns away, and her friends follow, leaving Miyako alone like she always wanted.

 

—————

 

Miyako doesn’t get the peaceful sleep she planned on. Instead, she wakes up throughout the night, gasping for breath from nightmare after nightmare. Some make sense — memories of what happened the day her life fell apart, or imaginings of the people at her new school finding out. They’re nonsensical, yet understandable in the way her nightmares usually are.

But some of her nightmares are different.

She sees shadows moving in them, glowing yellow eyes. They fill her with a strange terror, one that seems familiar despite never feeling it before.

In the dreams of darkness, she sees Kairi. But when she wakes, Miyako can’t remember much about her. She just knows that Kairi was there.

 

—————

 

Throughout her first week, Jirou and his friends continue to surround Miyako. It surprises her at first, but then she realizes why — Miyako is the shiny new thing, the girl from the city.

She’s entertainment.

Whatever. It’s better than being a target.

Most of her time with them is spent talking. They still want to know everything about the main island. The Destiny Island. They think it’s the epitome of grandeur. Miyako thinks they’re idiots, especially when she finds out that every single one of them has been to Destiny Island before.

Still, she answers their questions as well as she can, and makes sure to never say anything about her own life.

Sometimes Jirou’s gang doesn’t really talk to her at all. This is when they’re just goofing around and — more often than not — griping about the “fort losers.”

They hate all of them. Kairi, Tidus, Selphie, Wakka. Although Miyako can tell that they’re weary of Wakka. According to Elvira, he’s a junior and a Blitzball champ — the only type of person that can fend off Jirou.

So they target the freshmen a lot more. Selphie and Tidus get a good portion of insults and jeering, but Kairi is clearly hated the most. Especially by Jirou and Heather. They absolutely despise her, and whenever they talk about her, they make her sound like trash. Like the worst kind of person.

But Miyako remembers the hot sun, the sweat on her neck, and Kairi’s smile as she invited her into the shade.

Miyako never believes a single word.

Luckily, they almost never cross paths with the freshmen. Kairi and the others never seem to be in the cafeteria for long, and their classes are in a different hallway. Miyako doesn’t tell Jirou or Heather or anybody else about Kairi in Home Ec. She lies to Elvira and claims she needs extra time to clean after cooking, and that she’ll meet them at math from now on. This way, none of them will show up and see Kairi.

There is no fixing this, so Miyako just tries to keep everything from getting worse.

 

—————

 

“Damn chemistry. Like I need to know about plosphoritus or whatever.”

“That’s not a thing,” Miyako mutters, leaning further into her locker to grab another book.

Jirou snorts. He’s leaning against the locker next to hers, casual and somewhat bearable without his friends to impress. Miyako has found over the past week that Jirou has rare moments of decency, but never in front of a crowd.

“That’s why I said ‘or whatever.’ ”

“Yo, Jirou! Miyako!”

Miyako stifles a groan. She doesn’t want to deal with Jirou _and_ Lucas.

“Hey, man.”

“Ready to go to chem?”

“Hell no.”

Lucas laughs, then abruptly stops. “That locker…”

Miyako finishes gathering her books. When she slams her locker shut, she sees Lucas staring at the one next to hers. The one Jirou is leaning on.

“What about it?” Jirou asks, slapping his hand on it with a clang.

“That’s the one they gave to Riku.”

Jirou leaps away from the locker. “What the fuck do you mean, they gave it to Riku!?”

“I mean the school assigned Riku this locker.”

Jirou cracks up, guffawing and clapping Lucas on the back. Lucas starts to laugh, too.

Miyako has no clue what’s so funny.

“They gave that asshole a locker?” Jirou gasps out between laughs. “He’s gone! Has been for months!”

“I know!”

“Are they just hoping he’ll show up to class? They think he’s just skipping or something?”

Lucas shakes his head. “It’s the principal, man. He’s Riku’s grandfather.”

The mirth leaves Jirou very quickly. He scowls and kicks the locker. The sound startles several people nearby, and one poor girl drops the stack of papers she was carrying. Miyako helps her gather the scattered pages while Jirou curses.

“Damn! I had this awesome idea to fuck it up. Spray paint and shit, you know?”

Lucas nods. “That would have been so funny, man.”

“Right!? But I forgot about the principal. It ain’t worth a suspension… Whatever. Riku’s not worth the effort, anyways.”

“Definitely not.”

Jirou takes a deep breath. The flush on his cheeks fades a little. “Yeah. Miyako, need some help?”

“No,” she says as she hands the last paper to the girl, who stutters out a thanks before rushing off. “Maybe next time you can offer before I’m done.”

Jirou laughs, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “You’re a riot, Miyako.”

Yeah.

An absolute riot.

 

—————

 

Riku, Riku, Riku.

People are always talking about Riku, the mystery kid who has the locker next to her and never shows up to school.

But it’s never just Riku. It’s always, _always_ Riku and Sora.

Miyako doesn’t know much about either of them — only what Jirou tells her. That Riku was an arrogant bastard who ruined everybody’s day. That Sora was the idiot kid who never learned his place. And it is Jirou that reveals Riku and Sora were always hanging out with Kairi. The best of friends.

He never speaks of the boys in present tense.

She doesn’t want to know what happened to them. It must have been bad, and she doesn’t want to feel sympathy for Kairi. It’s bad enough seeing her in Home Ec, her eyes a million miles away, her smile gone completely.

Miyako can’t go down that road. She has to stop thinking about Kairi.

But she has always been insatiably curious, and her conviction to keep her nose out of it doesn’t even last a week. She wants to know about the boys who ran around with Kairi, who left her so sad. Who make Jirou seethe with anger, but make the other students grieve.

There must be a way to find out more without attracting too much attention…

On the Tuesday of the second week of school, Miyako finds her chance for answers. There’s a substitute for her history class, and the guy just gives them an in-class assignment before telling them to keep it down.

It’s an open invitation to talk, and Miyako takes it.

She glances at the students to her left. One is a girl with short black hair, and next to her a guy with magenta dreads. Neither of them seem interested in getting to work.

Miyako taps the girl on her shoulder. “Excuse me?”

She looks up and appraises Miyako with a weary expression.

Right. They know she’s friends with Jirou.

“Hi, I’m Miyako,” she says, offering her hand and a gentle smile. At least, she hopes it’s gentle.

The girl shakes her hand, albeit reluctantly. “Adati.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Adati smiles at her, thawing a little.

When Miyako offers her hand to the boy, he accepts the handshake without hesitation.

“I’m Takuya,” he tells her.

“Nice to meet you.”

“What, my name ain’t pretty?”

Miyako laughs genuinely for the first time in a long while. “It’s drop dead gorgeous.”

Takuya nods. “I know.”

That makes Adati giggle, and seeing the two are in a good mood, Miyako asks, “Want to work on this assignment together?”

They exchange a quick glance before nodding.

Miyako keeps the focus on the assignment at first. It’s about the formation of Destiny Islands. Another mystery, because some ancient sources claimed that islands came from volcanoes, others from weathering mountains. But these same ancient sources speak of other places as well. Valleys, glaciers, deserts. Lands so vast you can walk for days and never reach the ocean.

It’s impossible. Ships have sailed away from Destiny Islands for decades at a time, and all they ever find is ocean. Eventually, they end up back at the islands, like they went in one big circle.

The Destiny Islands are alone.

Newer sources (not new, but newer) claim that Destiny Islands are just one among many worlds out there. That those glaciers and valleys exist among the stars.

It’s fanciful thinking. There is no way to prove such a theory, and no reason to suggest it in the first place.

As she discusses this with Adati and Takuya, Miyako tries to think of a believable reason for shifting the subject. In the end, she doesn’t have to. Takuya brings up Riku and Sora for her.

“I think it’s possible that there are other worlds,” he argues. “I mean, that theory had to come from somewhere, right?”

Miyako rolls her eyes. “Yeah, and it came from a trash heap.”

Adati laughs.

“I’m serious.” Takuya fidgets a little, then leans closer and lowers his voice. “I mean, where do you think Riku and Sora went?”

Miyako blinks at him, confused, while Adati frowns.

“They disappeared during the storm, Takuya… I think they’re dead.”

He shakes his head vigorously. “No freakin’ way. This is Riku we’re talking about! _Riku!”_

“So you think they made it to another world?” Adati scoffs. “Get real.”

“Dude, I talked to Riku during gym all the time. They were building a raft and everything. Riku said they wanted to find Kairi’s home.”

“They built a _raft?_ Oh, Takuya. They definitely drowned.”

“No way in hell,” Takuya snaps. “Riku wouldn’t let that happen to Sora —”

“He’s not a god! He can’t spirit them out of a storm.”

“Whatever. They’re not dead. Kairi said so!”

“Kairi is in denial!”

Miyako clears her throat. Adati and Takuya stop arguing and glance at her.

“Who are Riku and Sora?” she asks them.

“You haven’t heard about them?” Adati says incredulously.

“Jirou mentions them sometimes, but I don’t think he’s the most reliable person to talk to.”

Takuya snorts. “Yeah. He hates Riku and Sora ‘cause they ruined the status quo.”

Miyako frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Well, years ago, we had a set way of doing things. There was a small island that we all knew about, and that kids from the ages of five to ten all wanted to play on. But to play on it, you had to be judged by a special group of kids. If they let you stay, you were cool. If they sent you packing, you became a loser for life. And once in a while, they’d pick a kid to become on of them. A chosen.”

“That sounds like a cult,” Miyako says in disgust.

Takuya shrugs. “We were bored, and it was a tradition. Anyways, the chosen kids took advantage of it. They’d give ridiculous tasks to the younger kids trying to play. Like making them eat worms or whack each other with sticks.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. It was shit. When we were five, Jirou became one of the chosen. So did Riku. It was a long time ago, so my memory’s a little hazy, but I think Riku didn’t do much. He mostly just hung around and sparred with anyone who challenged him.”

“You remember right,” Adati says. “Riku didn’t order around kids like the others, but he also didn’t do anything to stop it. I had to cut my pigtail off to stay, and Riku never said a word. I was bawling my eyes out!”

“So Riku was a mean guy?”

Adati shakes her head. “He was more… apathetic. He just didn’t care.”

That sounds mean to Miyako, but the grin on Takuya’s face suggests there’s more to the story.

“That’s how things were,” he claims, “until Sora showed up.”

Adati starts to smile too, grinning behind her hand as Takuya finishes the tale.

“It was a year after we first went to the island. I remember it clear as day.” He pauses dramatically, tilting his head towards the window and the sea beyond it. “It was Jirou’s turn to judge, and he told this little girl that she had to call her mom ugly in order to stay. To her mom’s face. In front of people.”

Miyako winces.

“So the little girl was crying and begging for him to give her any other task, and Jirou just stood there with the smuggest look on his face. And then this kid — this totally beatable, tiny kid, he just walks up and to Jirou and says, _‘You’re_ ugly!’ ”

Adati starts to laugh hysterically, covering her face with her hands.

“Everybody laughed at him, and that pissed Jirou off. So he said Sora was out of there. That he was no good. A loser. But Sora didn’t take that lying down. He said something — something like ‘you’re not king of the island!’ Basically, he said nobody could tell him what to do. Now, kids have tried that before, and they always end up with bloody noses. But when Jirou tried to hit Sora, Riku stopped him.”

“So, he suddenly decided to stop being an ass?”

“Nope.” Takuya smirks. “Turns out, Riku and Sora were already friends. So Jirou had to fight Riku instead, and he got his ass whooped. The other chosen kids didn’t like that, so they tried to gang up on Riku, but then Sora started fighting them, too. Some of the other kids on the island decided they had enough, too, and they joined in the fight. Man, it was _awesome._ I still dream about the moment Wakka hit their leader in the face with a Blitzball.”

“It was like a revolution,” Adati adds. “The island became everybody’s, and the chosen kids lost all their power.”

“It was just kid stuff, but it affected a lot. Nobody took the bullies seriously after that, not even at school. Sora was always there to stop them,” Takuya says.

Adati shakes her head. “Sora was there to _try_ to stop them. Riku, Wakka and the others were the only reason he succeeded.”

Humming, Miyako considers all of this. So they weren’t bad people — well, Riku sounded like a piece of work, but…

“They were friends with Kairi?”

Takuya stops smiling. “Yeah. She’s the only one who has ever gotten close to them. Before she showed up, they were always off on their own, having adventures on that island they found.”

“A different island than the one you guys went to?”

“Uh-huh. Wakka and the rest of their gang go there, too. They built a fort there. Nobody else knows where it is, though.”

Adati snorts. “People could find it if they really looked, but we never bothered.”

Miyako soaks the information in for a moment. It paints such a different picture than what Jirou tried to show her.

“What happened to them?” she finally asks.

Sighing, Takuya glanced out the window and to the sea again. “The storm happened. Nobody has seen them since that night.”

“They’re either lost at sea or dead,” Adati says.

“Kairi says they’re alive.”

“How would she know? She’s just a kid stuck on these islands like the rest of us.”

 

—————

 

Miyako ditches Jarou and the others after school. She tells them to go enjoy themselves at the beach, but she can’t come because of this awful paper she has to write, and isn’t that just tragic?

As soon as they are out of sight, she heads back into the school building. It’s small, so it won’t take long to look, and won’t be a big loss if she finds nothing.

After wandering a couple of hallways, Miyako spots it. She was looking for an awards display or maybe a yearbook — something to tell her a little more about the missing boys — but this goes beyond any of that.

What she finds is some sort of shrine.

It’s near the principal’s office, of all places. She would have noticed it sooner, but she was too nervous to pay proper attention that first day. Now it seems impossible to miss. There’s paper cranes and flowers and twinkling fairy lights framing the whole thing. The lights reflect off of glass beads and shells scattered on the table top, making the whole thing sparkle. A single half-melted candle sits in the middle, unlit.

It’s beautiful.

But what capture Miyako’s attention the most are the photographs. There are two of them — one school picture framed in wood on each side of the candle.

The first shows a boy with a huge grin. He looks more adorable than anything else, with baby fat still on his cheeks and his eyes crinkled happily. He’s in a school uniform, but not the blue one worn by high schoolers. Miyako guesses that he’s in middle school, then. His tie is missing entirely, and he seems wholly unconcerned by that as he reclines back with his hands behind his head. His brown hair is just as much a mess as the rest of him.

Miyako wonders if this boy really is dead somewhere, and even though she has never met him, the thought makes her eyes water. She quickly wipes at them before moving on to the second photo.

This boy is a stark contrast to the first. He’s paler, and silver hair frames his face. His eyes are an ocean green beneath his bangs. There’s no baby fat, and the muscles on his arms can be easily seen with the short-sleeved shirt from his uniform — the high school one, complete with a rumpled blue tie. His smile is more of a smirk, like he knows something the rest of the world will never find out.

He’s older than the brown-haired boy. So this is Riku, and the other one Sora.

Miyako breathes deeply through her nose.

A paper beneath the candle seems to have some sort of prayer on it. Below that, it explains that this is the school’s shrine made in dedication to the boys’ safe return, and that anybody is welcome to add to it. More shrines are mentioned — one at each of the boys’ homes.

The last sentence reads, _May the lights we leave here guide their way home._

After a little hesitation, Miyako opens her bag and shuffles through it. There’s nothing in it worthwhile — just school supplies and junk.

She sighs and gives up. Maybe she’ll see something later to leave for them.

 

—————

 

“Hello?”

Miyako clutches the phone tighter. “Hey, Dad.”

“Kiddo! How was your day?”

“Fine,” she says, then sighs. “Okay, not fine. I just found out some things that — that _suck.”_

“I see. What kinds of things?”

Miyako feels like the story of Riku and Sora belongs to this island alone, so she just says, “Bad things.”

“Sorry to hear that, kid. But there’s always a bit of good in everything, right? Even when you don’t see it.”

“I guess…” Miyako bites her lip. “Hey, Dad?”

“Hm?”

“Do you remember the storm?”

He chuckles. “We all remember the storm, kiddo.”

“It — it wasn’t as bad as it looked, right? Like, if I had gone out there that night, I would have been fine.”

A pause. “I’m not so sure about that. If you tried to leave the house, I definitely would’ve stopped you.”

“But there was no damage or anything the next day.”

“Yeah, well, even the weathermen couldn’t explain that… Look, Miyako, do me a favor? You trust your instincts when it comes to things like that storm. You knew it was bad, didn’t you?”

“… Yeah.”

“Good. Those feelings exist for a reason, kid.”

Later that night, as she lies in bed waiting for sleep, Miyako wonders if Riku and Sora’s instincts warned when the storm came.

Not _a_ storm. _The_ storm.

It came out of nowhere on the first of June. Everybody remembers it — raging winds and lightning, trees uprooting, waves crashing. And a suffocating darkness as the moon and stars slowly faded out of sight.

Then morning came, and nothing was different. No debris, no flooding, no damage. It baffled every weatherman and every scholar. Some whispered things about magic, but they were brushed off.

It’s one of those Destiny Islands mysteries.

Miyako doesn’t know what caused the storm, but she remembers how she felt that night. Her father is right. She knew it was bad. Worse than anything she faced before, even though it was just one among many storms she lived through.

Something in that one terrified her.

And when the storm disappeared, it left the fear behind.

The islanders here are probably right. The storm is to blame for the disappearance of those poor boys.

She blames it for what happened to her, too.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter:
> 
> Sora is forgotten by everyone who knew him, but Miyako never got the chance.


	2. fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miyako discovers certain machinations at play that leave her lonelier than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warning:** possible triggers for people with schizophrenia or other disabilities that cause hallucinations. Also, please note that Miyako's thoughts on mental health are reflective of the time period this is set in (a weird blend of 70s/80s/90s America) and that they do not reflect my views on the matter. As someone with mental disabilities, Miyako's turmoil in this chapter reflects my own fears and loneliness when I first realized how different I was.

 

 

Friday is when everything falls apart.

Miyako doesn’t know this when her alarm clock wakes her up. She doesn’t see the danger when she chows down her cereal, or when she walks to school. She doesn’t realize it during her first class, or her second, or third. There is no way for her to foresee the terror ahead.

But she does notice _something_ strange.

Throughout the day, Miyako hears people talk about Riku — only Riku. Nobody mentions Sora.

Not even once.

 

—————

 

Miyako figures that Sora’s fate has been confirmed, that bad news is keeping everybody tight-lipped and away from the subject. History is her final class today, and she heads there early; Adati and Takuya may have answers. Miyako slumps down in her seat to wait, tapping her feet impatiently. She runs her fingers along the carvings on her desk, wondering what past students were thinking as they dug pens and pencils into the wood. If they were trying to leave their mark, or if they had something to share. If they ever realized that these doodles and scribbles may outlast their lives.

Adati arrives first —just in time, because as she enters, Miyako spots a dick carved below her right elbow. Grimacing, she shifts her textbook over to cover it, then turns to Adati. There’s a red bow in her hair and a slight spring to her step.

She sees Miyako and smiles. “Hey! Ready for the test on Monday, or are you going to cram all the studying in over the weekend?”

Miyako snorts. “I’m always ready.”

Adati laughs, and Miyako smiles half-heartedly. She takes a deep breath.

“Adati?”

“Hm?”

“Did something happen?”

Pausing in arranged her pencil and textbook, Adati blinks at her. “Uh… what kind of something?”

“Sora. Did something happen to Sora?”

“To what?”

Miyako taps her fingers against the desk. The clacking sound is too loud in the quiet of the classroom, and she stops. “Sora. The boy you told me about on Tuesday. The kid who went missing?”

“… Do you mean Riku?”

“No! I mean Riku’s friend!”

“Kairi?”

_“Sora.”_

“What are you guys talking about?”

Takuya is a welcome sight. “We’re talking about Sora, but Adati’s acting funny and won’t say shit about him.”

“Who’s Sora?” Takuya says.

Miyako gapes at him.

“Are you feeling alright, Miyako?”

“I’m _fine!”_ she snaps at Adati, losing her patience. “You’re the ones acting like a bunch of —”

“Miss Ikeda! Why are on earth are you shouting in my classroom!?”

Miyako turns to see that Ms. Yoshida has arrived, a stack of paper in her arms and her face set in a stern frown. Maybe she should feel embarrassed, or at least contrite, but Miyako is too frustrated for any of that.

_“They,”_ Miyako points at Adati and Takuya, “are trying to pull some kind of crappy prank!”

“Watch your language, young lady.”

“But they’re acting like they don’t know who Sora is! It’s annoying!”

By now, the entire class (which is basically six people) has arrived, and every one of them is staring at her. She feels the weight of their gazes, and the burden suddenly becomes suffocating when Ms. Yoshida frowns at her and says, “I don’t know who this Sora person is, but I’m certain they are not worth any yelling in my classroom.”

“Wh-what?” A chill runs down Miyako’s spine. “But you _do_ know Sora! Everybody’s been talking about him and how he disappeared —”

“Ah.” Ms. Yoshida shakes her head. “You must mean Riku.”

“No! I mean Sora!”

“His name is Riku, Miss Ikeda. Though I don’t expect you to know that —”

“I’m not — I’m not talking about Riku! It’s the other missing boy!”

“What other boy?”

“Sora!”

Ms. Yoshida frowns and her brows furrow. “There are no other missing children, _and_ there has never been a Sora. Not on this island, at least.”

By this point, Miyako’s frustration is entirely gone. It has been replaced by a bone-deep anxiety, and a nausea that nearly sends her to her knees.

“Woah!” Takuya catches her as she starts to collapse. “Ms. Yoshida, I think Miyako’s sick!”

“So it would seem. Please help her to the nurse —”

“No!” Miyako pushes away from Takuya. “I can go on my own.”

Ms. Yoshida eyes her critically. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I just… I might have a fever or something.”

“Well, that would explain your delirium. Go on and see the nurse — but I do expect you to make up for lost class time.”

“Alright. Thanks.”

Miyako scurries out the door with her books in her arms and her face burning — not from fever, but from embarrassment. It’s not nearly as powerful as the anxiety clawing its way up her throat.

Ms. Yoshida is a stern teacher, the no-nonsense type who can silence any class clown with a single glare. The idea of her partaking in a prank is completely laughable.

But that just makes things worse for Miyako.

 

—————

 

Miyako is too scared to go to the nurse. If she told somebody about this — about her clear memory of hearing Sora’s story, of his name echoing in the school’s halls — they would call her crazy. And maybe she is.

It is the fear of this that guides her to the beach. The ocean has always been a calming force for Miyako, and she hopes it will work this time, too. It’s not a long walk from the school — on an island as small as this one, every building is right on the coast.

As soon as she reaches the beach, Miyako kicks off her shoes and socks, tosses her bag into the sand, and wades into the water. She stays there for a long time. Long enough that her toes start to prune, and she has to leave the water, only to return as soon as the sun dries her. The sound of the waves, the salt in the air, and the sunlight glinting across the surface — it pulls her forward again and again.

_Beautiful,_ she thinks.

Surely, with such wonders in this world, nothing can be ruined. Miyako clings to that thought; if she sees only this for the rest of her life, she will be fine.

“Miyako?”

She whips around to see Jirou, and grits her teeth in irritation. Of all the people in the world, _he_ had to be the one to find her.

“What?” Miyako tries to keep her voice calm, but there’s still a bite to it that makes Jirou wince.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re just standing here…”

She turns back to the ocean. “I’m thinking.”

“Yeah?” Jirou laughs. “Must be pretty deep thoughts.”

“Not if I can help it.”

Miyako hears the sand shift beneath Jirou’s feet as he moves to her side. “I was heading home after playing some Blitzball when I saw you. You looked like weirdo.”

“So you decided to come be a weirdo, too?”

Jirou shrugs, plopping down on the sand and stretching his legs out. “Why not? Blitzball is over, and I ain’t in a hurry to do homework.”

Miyako sighs, accepting that Jirou won’t be leaving any time soon, and she sits down, too. Her knees knock painfully into his.

“Ow! Jesus, what are your bones made of?”

“Titanium.”

He laughs. “You’re a riot!”

There he goes again with that riot nonsense. His laugh fades away, and they are left staring into the horizon together, the air filled with sound despite their solitude — the crashing waves, the cawing gulls, the roaring wind.

Miyako wonder if Jirou feels as alone as she does.

As the sun starts to set, Jirou says, “I’m guessing the job hunt ain’t going too great.”

“… No.”

“Well, if you really want one, my grandma is looking for some extra help.”

Miyako considers this. If nothing else, she can use the distraction.

Plus, she always wanted a Walkman.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll take it.”

“Cool. Just visit the ice cream stand tomorrow morning and ask for Natsuki. She’ll tell you about it.”

 

—————

 

Natsuki is an old woman with fine grey hair curled to her shoulders. Her grin shows a couple of gaps where teeth are missing, and when she speaks her voice is grated and rough.

“Miyako, right?” Natsuki says, leaning over the counter. Behind her, a fan whirs away, blowing cool air in their direction. “Jirou told me you’d be a big help. This is my ice cream shack, and I’m too fond of it to retire, but I can’t keep up with customers the way I used to. That’s where you come in, sugar.”

Miyako refrains from snapping at the word ‘sugar.’ “So I’ll be scooping ice cream.”

“For now. I might need help with the books eventually, but I usually rely on my son for that… Guess we’ll just have to see where it goes!”

“Fine by me. When do you want me to start?”

“Whenever works for you. I’ll start training you right now, if you want!”

“Um, sure.” It’s not like Miyako ever has plans on Saturday.

“Great! Come ‘round the back, I’ll show you everything.”

Natsuki is very detailed in her training — unnecessarily so. She veers off topic a lot, gets into winding stories the way most old folks do. Miyako doesn’t mind; it still beats sitting at home. Besides, cramming all this information is nearly enough to drive Sora from her mind. It surely would have, Miyako suspects, if only the woman hadn’t shown up.

Miyako sees her first, waiting at the counter with her elbows propped up and her head in her chin. She’s short and chubby, with black hair and laughter lines around her mouth. Her eyes seem a bit familiar.

“Oh, Akiko!” Natsuki notices her and greets the woman with a kiss to the cheek. “Taking a break?”

“For now. I have someone at the clinic if there’s an emergency, but it’s been slow.”

Natsuki tuts. “Should have been a doctor for humans. That’d keep you busy.”

Akiko laughs. “Maybe! But I like animals too much for that. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new employee?”

“Oh! Right.” Natsuki pats Miyako on the back. “This is Miyako. Uh… What was your family name, dear?”

“Ikeda. I’m Ikeda Miyako.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miyako. I’m Mizushima Akiko.” She offers a hand to shake, and when Miyako takes it, her face breaks into a wide, goofy smile.

Miyako quickly drops her hand, shocked. The familiar blue eyes, the nose — those hinted at it, but the second she sees that smile, Miyako _knows._ She has seen that smile before, in a photo surrounded by trinkets and prayers.

This is Sora’s mother.

“You can’t just dawdle all day, Akiko,” Natsuki says. Miyako steps back, struggling to regain her composure before either woman notices. “There are dogs that need check-ups, you know!”

“Yes, yes.” Akiko laughs. “I’ll have a cone this time.”

“Chocolate, right?”

“No, actually. I think I’ll have strawberry today.”

Natsuki drops the scooper she was holding. It lands with a clang on the floor, making both Akiko and Miyako jump.

_“Strawberry!?”_ Natsuki screeches. “Strawberry!? I’ve served you ice cream since you were just a little girl in pigtails, and you have always, _always_ asked for chocolate —”

Akiko tries to speak. “Natsuki —”

“— the end of the world! Hell is cold! Cue the flying pigs! Everybody —”

“Natsuki!”

“What!?”

“It’s fine,” Akiko says. “I just… I feel like getting strawberry.”

“Why now!?”

Looking down at her hands, Akiko frowns. “I feel like I’m forgetting something, and my gut keeps telling me to do odd things so I’ll remember it…”

Miyako feels like she might throw up. Desperate for a distraction, she grabs another scooper and starts to prepare the cone for Akiko.

“Your gut’s telling you to get strawberry ice cream?” Natsuki raises her brows.

“Yes! It’s not as silly as it seems, I swear! My gut also told me to hop over any cracks in the sidewalk, and to jump into any puddles, and that every frog might be a prince so I need to kiss them.”

“Kissing frogs!?”

“Yes!”

“You’re a strange woman, Akiko.”

“Maybe!” Akiko’s smile is back. “But I think if I keep at it, I’ll remember what I forgot.”

“Well, I don’t see how doing such childish things will help you, but it’s your choice. If you think it’s helping…”

“It definitely is — Oh, thank you!” Akiko smiles gratefully at Miyako as she hands over the cone. “I’ll eat it on my way back. Take care, both of you!”

“You, too!” Natsuki’s response is a lot more enthusiastic than Miyako’s, who just mumbles a goodbye. It’s hard to muster any energy after that.

Sora’s mother is real. Then, Sora must be real, right? There’s no way Miyako could have imagined a boy who just happened to look like one of the islanders…

Actually, that is possible.

But is it probable!?

Miyako feels her head spinning. Everything boils down to this: is she crazy, or did an entire island forget about one boy?

Neither option is pleasant. And both options would dismantle everything she knows.

“Miyako?” She blinks, breaking out of her thoughts. Natsuki is staring at her, brows pinched in concern. “Are you alright, sugar?”

“Fine,” she says, then changes her mind. “Actually, I’m not fine. I feel a little dizzy —”

“Say no more, dear. You go home and rest — and drink lots of water! Come back tomorrow and we’ll start your first official day. I’ll have your pay for today, too.”

“Thank you.”

Miyako scurries away from the shack as quickly as she can without looking suspicious. She doesn’t head towards home.

Home doesn’t have the answers she needs.

 

—————

 

The school is completely silent. More importantly, it’s completely vacant, too. At her old school, there would have been people here for sports or clubs, but this school is small enough that all extra-curricular activities can fit into the weekdays. It’s also small enough to forgo any security. Miyako easily slips into the building by climbing through a first floor window, left open by an irresponsible teacher. Her footsteps sound obnoxiously loud as she walks through the halls.

The principal’s office isn’t hard to find, especially with the shrine next to it. Miyako approaches it, hoping to find two photographs among the lights and seashells.

But there is only one.

Miyako stares at Riku’s photo, her heat hammering away in her chest. _This is impossible_ , she thinks, but she knows she is wrong. Other people have hallucinated before, and now she has, too. Only she hallucinated an entire human being.

Is that normal?

A psychologist would know. She should tell one.

_No._

The fear is clogging her throat now, making it hard to breathe. She doesn’t know what comes after this.

Miyako sinks to the floor, hands limp on the tiles.

_But everything seemed so real._

Wait…

It’s one thing to hallucinate her own actions and senses, but didn’t Adati and Takuya tell her that story about Riku? Didn’t Riku fight Jirou _because_ of Sora?

Could Miyako really make that up? Could she really twist a story like that, just to add another person?

And then there was that fight during the first day of school. Jirou taunted Kairi about Riku _and_ Sora. Not separately, but as a pair. He was even going to say that slur before Kairi slapped him.

There’s no way Miyako made that up.

Determined now, Miyako decides that for the sake of her sanity — or whatever remains of it — she needs to know.

That’s why she stands back up and breaks into the principal’s office. Actually, it’s technically the administrator’s office that she enters, where they keep files for all the students and faculty, and it’s not locked, so she’s technically not breaking in. (She’s pretty sure the school would disagree, though.)

All the cabinets and drawers are clearly labelled, so it takes less than a minute for Miyako to locate the student files. They’re in one of those filing cabinets, complete with a lock. She pulls it open with no effort — unlocked, just like the door. She rolls her eyes.

This school seriously needs better security if they don’t want a lawsuit in the future.

Miyako skims across the names on each tab until she reaches ‘Mizushima.’ Or rather, where ‘Mizushima’ should be, because there’s no file with that name. Miyako clenches her teeth and checks for ‘Sora’ instead, even though the other files use family names, but still finds nothing.

_Damn it._

Hands shaking now, Miyako grabs the student directory at the front of the cabinet. This is her last hope. If Sora isn’t in here, she’s screwed.

The student directory is a list of each student and their phone numbers. If Sora ever went to this school, his name will be here. Miyako struggles through the list, as the names are poorly spaced and crowded together. She’s just found the ‘K’ names when she realizes it: Sora is in Kairi’s grade. He was supposed to be a freshman this year, but he went missing in June.

Which means Sora never went to this school.

Miyako tosses the directory on the ground with a furious shriek. Sora’s file would be in the middle school, and she has _no clue_ where that is.

_This was a waste of time._

Scowling, she bends down to pick up the damn directory —

There’s an empty space.

An empty space, clearly visible on the otherwise crowded page. It’s just below ‘Milton Victoria’ and above ‘Mlakar Danica.’

Where Mizushima Sora should be.

Miyako dog-ears the page and flips through the rest of the directory, but there’s no other empty spaces. This is proof, as far as she’s concerned. The one blank space in the book, and it’s where Sora’s name should be. That can’t be a coincidence — they must have put him in the directory despite his absence, just like they gave Riku a locker.

Miyako feels elated, like an anchor was lifted off her shoulders. This means she didn’t hallucinate.

She’s not insane. She’s _fine._

…

Except…

What happened to this island? Sora’s picture is gone, there’s an empty space in this book as though the ink vanished, and the people —

Sora’s own mother can’t remember him.

How the fuck does that happen!?

Miyako remembers her dilemma earlier — that the answer to all of this was either her loss of sanity, or something so immense that no laws can contain it. Not even the laws of the universe.

The thought chills her. Miyako sticks everything back where it belongs and leaves the office, quiet as a mouse.

Her hands never stop shaking.

 

—————

 

Her mother is in the kitchen when Miyako arrives home. It smells like pasta, which she normally loves, but her appetite is long gone.

“I’m not hungry tonight, Mom,” she calls from the hallway.

“Oh.” Her mother sounds surprised, but not concerned. “Alright. I’ll leave left-overs in the fridge for you.”

“Thanks!”

Miyako trudges to her room and shuts the door behind her. Her bed looks impossibly inviting, so she collapses onto it, burying her face in her pillow. In less than a minute, she’s crying hysterically into the fabric.

She’s just so _fucking scared_.

 

—————

 

Miyako doesn’t know why she can remember Sora, and nobody else can.

But she wants to know.

So she experiments.

Her mother, when asked, claims that there has never been a Sora on the island, but she knows Akiko and Akiko’s husband. Miyako figures that she knew Sora, too, and has forgotten him like the rest.

So it’s not some immunity Miyako inherited from her mother…

She calls her father and talks to him for a long time, telling him about classes and about her friends. This time, she tells him about Sora — not that he’s missing, but that he built a fort with his friends and how Jirou hates him.

When she calls again a week later, Miyako asks her dad if he remembers Sora.

He says, “Uh… That’s the fort kid, right? What about him?”

“Nothing — listen, Dad, I’ve got to go. There’s some really important stuff —”

She calls Haru next and repeats the process, forcing herself through awkward conversation for the sake of a complete stranger.

Haru remembers, too.

 

—————

 

There’s one last experiment for Miyako to try. She’s on break at work, sitting across from Jirou as he eats his chocolate ice cream. Heather is with them, too, but all of her focus is on the magazine she’s reading.

“Hey, Jirou,” Miyako starts.

“Hm?”

“You know Sora, right?”

“Nope.”

_“Really?_ I talk about him all the time, though!” Miyako feels like a piece of shit for lying about this, but she has to know. “He’s a friend of mine, back on the main island. Such a goofball! I bet you’d like him.”

“That so?”

“Totally! Hey, he might come and visit soon, so keep an eye out for him, okay? He’s got brown spiky hair and blue eyes and a super big smile. You can show him the island while I’m working!”

“Brown hair, blue eyes. Got it.”

“Maybe I should dye my hair brown,” Heather mutters. “Or maybe pink…”

“You look fine blond,” Miyako says.

“Really? Thank you so much! Still, it seems so boring compared to yours —”

“Come off it, Heather,” Jirou snaps.

“What!?”

“You’re fishing for compliments!”

“Screw you, Jirou! Your hair’s not that great, either!”

“What!? That’s bullshit!”

“It’s true! Who wants plain old black hair?”

“I like my hair!”

It takes a while for the argument to settle. Miyako ends up helping it along by asking Heather about her new sandals. Once Heather is done gushing about sequins — Miyako actually likes rhinestones better, but it doesn’t matter right now — she puts her experiment to an end.

“By the way, Jirou,” she says, “you should play Blitzball with Sora and me. We’re competitive, though, so expect to get your ass whooped!”

“Who’s Sora?”

Miyako takes a deep breath. “Sora? My friend? I told you about him ten minutes ago?”

Jirou stares at her blankly.

“None of this is ringing a bell?”

“Nah,” he says. “Never heard of a Sora in my life.”

“But — Heather, you were kinda listening. I told Jirou about Sora, right?”

“Mmm… I don’t think so! I’ve never heard of a Sora, either.”

 

—————

 

It’s late October, and Miyako is at the docks with a notebook and a pen. She rereads the list on the first page for the millionth time.

  1. _Sora is real._
  2. _Sora and Riku are missing._
  3. _Only Sora has been forgotten._
  4. _Only people who have met Sora forget him._
  5. _If told about him, these people will forget again._
  6. _Every trace of him has been erased._
  7. _I don’t know what I’m doing._



Taking a deep breath, Miyako stares out into the Sunday sky. Whatever is messing with this island, she’s definitely _not_ qualified to stop it. She should move on, let things run their course…

But while her fear always outweighs her courage, nothing ever trumps her curiosity.

Miyako climbs into one of the rowboats. There’s some kind of bird painted on the side, marking it as Lucas’. He told her she’s free to borrow it anytime, since he prefers the new canoe his dad bought. This is the first time she’s taken him up on his offer.

Today, Miyako will find the hidden fort — the final part of her investigation. She will have nothing to go on, after this.

Miyako follows the shallows to island after island. There are a lot of small ones scattered around Paopu Island, just as Paopu Island is one of the small ones scattered around the main Destiny Island. She passes an island where fishermen are heaving up nets, and when they wave at her, she hesitantly waves back. Another one has some small children playing on it, and some older kids looking after them. She thinks she sees Wakka among them, and purposely stays away. There’s a couple islands too small to have any purpose, and one island that looks too wild and overrun to enter.

Her arms burn from the strain of so much rowing, but she powers through. This is nothing compared to the rigorous training at her father’s dojo.

It’s the last island that proves fruitful. She’s rowing towards the back of it, fully prepared to turn and go home empty-handed, when she spots a small, vacant dock on the shore. Miyako grins and rows closer, hoping to find —

— a fort. A large one, wooden, that stretches the length of the beach and beyond. There’s a treehouse, a bridge, and… a waterfall. Miyako docks her boat as quickly as she can. She should focus on finding clues, but the waterfall beckons her. It’s too small to make the same roaring sound as the waterfalls on the main island, but it’s close enough. Kicking off her sandals, Miyako bites her lip to stifle her grin. The water is cool on her feet. She sighs, feeling refreshed.

This place is amazing — definitely more than she could ever have the patience to build. She steps out of the water and slides her sandals back on, thinking of where to search first.

She looks up and sees the cave.

It’s small and easily missed, hidden in the shadows of a nearby tree. Miyako enters it carefully, weary of getting stuck, but it opens up into a larger area than she expected.

Light drifts in from the entrance and between cracks in the stone above. Miyako can clearly see the drawings along the cave wall, all childish and made with chalk or scratched into the stone. Some are monsters, some are people… There’s nothing too noticeable, though. Certainly nothing that proves Sora existed.

She sighs leaves the cave empty-handed. Exploring the platform and the tree house yields nothing either. She checks the shack next, finding stairs inside. They lead her up and outside again, to a bridge to an islet.

Miyako glares up into the sunset. She didn’t realize how late it was getting, and her mother might get pissed if Miyako comes back after dark. _I’ll check out this last spot,_ Miyako decides. _Then I’ll go back._

But as she crosses the bridge, thoughts of home flee her mind.

There’s somebody here.

It shocks her, because she thought —

A quick glance to the dock confirms it: the only boat on this island is hers.

Miyako slows her steps, creeping quietly forward. As she gets closer, she sees that the stranger is tall — a little taller than her, and a little stockier, too. But what really worries her is the cloak they are wearing. It’s black, obscuring every inch of the person beneath it.

Stopping at the end of the bridge, Miyako struggles with decision to turn around or continue forward. It doesn’t matter, in the end. The stranger turns their head to the side, and a boy’s voice — younger than she expected, but not too young — rings out.

“Why are you here?”

After a moment of stunned silence, Miyako realizes the stranger is speaking to her. She takes a step back.

“I asked you a question. Why are you on this island?”

Miyako stutters, trying to think of answer, until she remembers that this guy shouldn’t be here, either. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Only an idiot or a crook would wear a cloak in this weather! Which one are you, you creep!?”

Whoever he is, the boy isn’t willing to listen. “Get out of here. This island doesn’t belong to you.”

“I’m aware! I _know_ who it belongs to, and you’re not them!”

He snorts.

“I’m serious!” Miyako shouts. “Why are you he—”

She cuts off mid-word. This guy really does look like a criminal, and if he’s on _this_ island, then maybe…

“Did you —” She has to stop and clear her throat. “Did you kidnap Sora and Riku?”

The stranger’s stance immediately tenses, and he steps away from the tree, turning to face her. The cloak still keeps his face hidden.

“You remember Sora?” His voice is strained, like remembering Sora is a disaster.

Miyako’s heart starts to beat wildly.

“Are you saying people were _supposed_ to forget? Are you — are you the _reason_ they forgot!? What did you do!?”

The boy sounds angry now. “That is none of your concern. Why are you able to remember Sora? Who are you to him?”

_I never met him. I can’t forget what I don’t know._ Miyako doesn’t tell him this.

Instead, she shouts, “I could ask you the same thing! You look suspicious, you talk like some kind of villain — you are so beyond suspicious, it’s not even funny! I mean — how did you even get here!?”

The guy suddenly stalks towards her. Miyako stumbles back, but doesn’t run.

Her father’s training won’t fail her here.

“Who the hell are you!?” she shouts. “You — you’re the one that erased Sora, aren’t you? How can you — I just — it’s impossible! What —”

“Don’t dwell on it.” He raises a hand. As soon as he’s within reach, Miyako starts to pivot into a basic jujutsu move.

But her feet won’t budge. She looks down to see something dark creeping up from the earth, burying her feet and now inching up her leg. The shock of what she sees blows away all thoughts of fighting.

“It has nothing to do with you,” the stranger tells her.

_You’re wrong,_ she thinks. The darkness is curling around her now, shrouding her from the sunlight and into a state of hysteria. Fear steals her voice away. _This has_ everything _to do with me._

_I’m the one who remembers._

_Me. Only me._

Her last thought:

_Is Sora that alone, too?_

 

—————

 

Miyako wakes up with a gasp. She sits up with her fists raised, ready to fight, but it’s unnecessary. There’s no man in sight — no fort either. She’s back on Paopu Island, on the beach near the docks. The sun is gone entirely. Stars sparkle in the night sky, but the sight doesn’t please Miyako at all.

“What the…?” she mutters to herself, unsure of what is real and what isn’t.

“You’re awake!”

Miyako turns to see Kairi, clearly visible under the moonlight and struggling with some kind of cylindrical container.

“What — where am I? The guy — where did he go!?”

“What guy? You were just sleeping there. On _my_ stargazing spot, by way,” Kairi snaps, “so if you’d kindly move —”

“But —!” Miyako’s hands start to shake. “There was a guy, and he knew about everything! And then the darkness just came out if nowhere—”

Kairi’s head jerks up. She drops the container on the ground. “Darkness?”

“It fucking _ate_ me! I was on that fort island and now I’m here and my arms still hurt from rowing so there’s no damn way —”

“Miyako —”

“— imagined any of it! I felt it! It was like suffocating inside of jello! I’m _not_ crazy —”

“— Miyako —”

“— world is crazy, I swear —”

_“Miyako!”_

Kairi’s screech hits Miyako like a tidal wave, and she collapses back into the sand. She thinks she’s going into shock or something.

“I believe you.”

Miyako bolts upright. “You _what!?”_

“I said I believe you.”

“… You _do!?”_

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

Miyako gapes at Kairi. “I don’t — I don’t understand. How can you possibly believe me? I barely believe myself, and I’m the one who saw it!”

Kairi looks away, staring out into the starry night sky. “Does it matter why?”

“… Kind of, yeah.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Kairi says primly, bending down to retrieve the cylinder. Miyako squints at it, making out a label that says _Stargazing for All_. “Because I don’t have any intention of telling you why.”

“Seriously!?”

“Seriously. Just be happy that _somebody_ believes you, even if that person is dreadful old me.”

Miyako looks down at her knees. There’s sand gritted in her skin, and she brushes it off with a scowl. “I don’t have a problem with you.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

There’s nothing to really say to that, so Miyako just snaps her jaw shut and keeps glaring down. After a long moment of silence, she glances up to see Kairi staring at her.

“What?” she snaps.

“I told you, you’re in my stargazing spot.”

Miyako hisses in irritation, but stands up anyway. She has to head home before her mother grounds her for life. As she brushes the sand off of her back, Kairi takes over the vacated spot and continues to struggle with the lid of her container. Feeling guilty over — well, over everything, Miyako sighs and holds out her hand.

“Give it here.”

Kairi glances at her. “What?”

“Give me the damn thing. I’ll open it for you.”

There’s a tense moment where Kairi does nothing but stare, her eyes roving over Miyako’s face like a sailor’s over a map.

When she does finally hand it over with a mumbled, “Okay,” Miyako opens it easily. A telescope slides out, and she hands it to Kairi.

“… Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Miyako says. She means it literally, and Kairi can tell, judging by her frown. She lets Miyako walk away without any snide remarks, at least. It’s not until she’s meters away that Kairi suddenly shouts after her. Miyako turns back.

“What was that?” she asks as Kairi jogs towards her.

“Sorry, I just — you mentioned a guy, right? Tell me about him.”

Miyako eyes her wearily. “Why?”

“Because I… I just want to know.”

“… There’s not much to say. He was wearing a black cloak, so I didn’t see his face — or anything else, for that matter.”

Kairi bites her lip. “What about his voice? Did he say anything?”

_You remember Sora?_ Kairi doesn’t, so Miyako decides to keep that part of the conversation secret.

“He just told me to get off the island,” she lies.

“This island?”

Miyako shifts her gaze away. “No. I, uh, was on the one with a fort.”

“… On _our_ island?” Kairi sounds very affronted, and when Miyako musters the courage to look at her again, she’s flushed with rage.

“Look, I wasn’t there to invade your little playground!” Miyako snaps. She can’t help but feel defensive. “I just came across it while rowing and decided to explore it.”

Kairi sighs, the anger draining from her face. “Whatever. Just don’t go there again.”

“Fine. I don’t want to go there again anyways — there’s a damn psycho on that island!”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Not really? He just yelled at me and then somehow used some dark shit to knock me out.”

“A portal,” Kairi says. “It was a portal.”

“Maybe? I don’t know… What makes you think it was a portal?”

“Just a feeling.”

_Bullshit._ Miyako doesn’t press it, though. She doesn’t have the energy.

“What about his voice?” Kairi asks. “His height? Anything at all…”

“He sounded young — around our age, I think. And he was a little taller than me. A little bigger, too.”

A smile blossoms across Kairi’s face, and Miyako can’t help but stare. She’s never seen Kairi this happy. The smile doesn’t last long, though. It fades away, leaving confusion and sorrow in its wake.

“But why would he…? Why didn’t he…?” Kairi mumbles, eyes a little distant.

Miyako stares at her. “Kairi, do you know who he is?”

“… It doesn’t matter. There’s no keeping him here unless he chooses to stay.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Thanks for telling me.”

“Uh, sure.”

Kairi smiles a little sadly. She turns back to the ocean, and Miyako heads home, leaving Kairi with the stars for company.

 

 


End file.
